


Free Falling

by Arwriter, Kaspy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Whump, Dutch tries his best, Family, Family Feels, Scared Arthur, hurt Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaspy/pseuds/Kaspy
Summary: Arthur's life is put on the line when another one of Dutch's plans proves to be more trouble than it's worth.





	1. Arwriter

Dutch closed his hand around the rock, fingers numb and aching inside his gloves, his own breath obscuring his vision as it wafted into the air. 

“How you holding up?” he asked the younger man a few paces away, Arthur clutching the rope around his waist like the lifeline it had become. 

“Fine,” he managed shakily, nodding as he carefully adjusted his footing. Arthur risked a glance over his shoulder, and Dutch couldn’t help but smile as he quickly turned back to the mountainside. “Christ, we’re high up.” 

“We’re almost there,” Dutch assured, setting aside his own unease. The higher they climbed, the harder the excursion became, the rock walls growing smoother, ledges to lasso their ropes around now almost nonexistent. “You know, if it’s too much for you, you can always head down and wait with the old man.” 

“Why the hell did Hosea get out of this?” 

Dutch smirked, risking a glance down to a barely visible Hosea, watching the other men from the bottom of the mountain. 

“He needs to catch you when you fall,” Dutch said, earning an annoyed scoff from Arthur. “See the ledge?” 

“I see the  _ fucking  _ ledge.” Arthur took a breath, one hand on the rocks, the other still clutching the rope. “Sorry.” 

“Almost there, son,” Dutch said again, softening his tone. “Didn’t realize you were such a fan of heights.” 

“Right because  _ this  _ is such a fantastic idea,” Arthur snapped. “Risking our necks for some treasure that might not even  _ exist.”  _

“It looks higher than it is,” Dutch lied, though he couldn’t help but mirror the younger man’s concerns. Money was money, and the map Hosea had stolen seemed genuine, but that was one hell of a fall. “Try to relax.” 

“I’ll relax when we’re back on the ground.” 

Dutch ignored him, pulling himself up on the rope, gripping the rocks as he climbed higher. He could see the ledge above him, hopefully their last stop before they could find the promised stash of cash and get the hell off this mountain. 

“Come on, Arthur,” he called, realizing the other man still hadn’t moved to follow, frozen against the rocks. “We have to keep moving.” 

Arthur hesitated, swallowing, and Dutch’s heart clenched in sympathy when he saw the young man’s gaze locked on the ground a dizzying distance below. 

“Dutch, I’m…” he paused, carefully turning his head to meet Dutch’s eyes. “I don’t think I can--”

“You’re ok,” Dutch insisted. He tried not to sound impatient, but clinging to the side of the mountain was immensely more terrifying than making gradual progress upwards. “Just keep going, we’re almost there. Arthur--” 

“I’m coming,” he promised, breathless, hands visibly trembling. “Sorry, Dutch, I’m coming, I just--” 

“It’s ok,” Dutch reiterated, suddenly reminded of the terrified child he’d found and raised all those years ago, wishing more than anything for Arthur to be safely back on the ground with Hosea. “It’s not that bad, just follow my lead.” 

He pulled himself closer to the edge, the rope still holding him steady, keeping his eyes on Arthur as he moved, offering a reassuring smile. 

Arthur took a breath and nodded, climbing up after him, movements slow and unsure as he followed. 

“Y-you...you sure I can’t just head back down, Dutch?” It was said loosely, as light as Arthur could manage at a time like this, but Dutch recognized the barely controlled desperation concealed in a joke. 

“You’ve already made it this far,” he pushed, his fingers just inches from the ledge as he continued to climb. “I’m right here, son. Look how close we are.”  

Arthur nodded, breathing heavily, wide eyes glued to the older man. Dutch gave a gentle smile, hooking his fingers in the smooth snow, swinging his legs over and pulling himself over the edge. 

He let out a breath, some of the tension seeping from his shoulders, briefly closing his eyes under the crushing relief of solid ground beneath him for the first time in too long. 

But it wasn’t over, and Dutch quickly moved back to the ledge, locking onto Arthur’s panicking mind. He’d have to find some way to make it up to the younger man when this was finished. 

“I’m right here!” Dutch reached out an awaiting hand as Arthur pulled himself closer, still too far. “You can make it, Arthur. Come on!” 

Arthur clenched his jaw, visibly working to push down his fear, and kept climbing, determined to get to Dutch. 

He was almost there, their hands just inches apart, dutch leaning over the edge as far as he could, smile widening when Arthur moved to close the rest of the distance. 

There was a small gasp, Arthur’s face suddenly breaking out into one of pure, unabashed terror, the rock supporting his foot suddenly giving way, tumbling down the side of the mountain, Arthur’s boot scraping uselessly against the stone wall. 

_ “Dutch!”  _

He fell backwards, Dutch powerless to do anything to stop it, Arthur’s scream tearing through his heart like a knife. 

If the scream hadn’t already been fading, Dutch wouldn’t have heard the chilling sound of splitting rope, turning just in time to see Arthur’s lasso, his lifeline, come unraveled at the end, no longer wrapped around the rock. 

The rest of the rope rushed forward to follow Arthur off the edge, and Dutch was dunked under a wave of panic, diving forward to grab it without thinking. 

“Arthur!” he called, managing to wrap his hands around the frayed rope just before it fell from his reach. “I’ve got you, hang on!” 

Dutch barely had a second to wonder if his own rope had met a similar fate before there was a vicious tug, yanking him forward. 

It all happened so fast, the ground sliding out from underneath him as he held onto Arthur’s rope like it was the only thing that mattered, pulled over the edge too quickly to register what was happening before he found himself falling. 

He found himself staring at his own rope, following him down, only able to silently hope and pray it would still hold, the only thing that could save their lives. 

Dutch held Arthur’s rope tightly, refusing to let go. His tether would hold. It would catch them both. 

He tried to find the strength to call out to Arthur, to send some kind of promise to reassure the younger man he wouldn’t hit the ground, that Dutch wouldn’t let him. But he was falling too fast, the freezing wind stealing his breath. 

And then the rope jerked him to a sudden stop, holding steady as he was pulled back, the force of the tug making his neck ache. 

Arthur was still falling, coming dangerously close to the ground, his rope yet to reach its limit. Dutch held the end to his chest, holding tightly, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing to support Arthur’s weight.

It came sooner than he’d expected, the suddenness of Arthur’s halt threatening to yank the rope out of Dutch’s hands. But he refused to let go, muscles burning under the strain, holding his breath as he risked a glance down. 

As soon as he saw what was below him, Dutch’s chest loosened, flooded with a weightless relief, finally remembering how to breathe properly. 

Arthur was on his back, the rope still secured tightly around his waist, suspended a few feet above the snow. 

He hadn’t hit the ground. Hosea was moving towards him, the older man probably already preparing a lecture for their recklessness after he cut Arthur down. Dutch allowed himself to tilt his aching neck to the sky and wait for his heart to slow. 

“Christ,” he muttered, before raising his voice to call to the younger man. “Remind me to listen to you next time! What do you boys say we forget this damn treasure and find someplace warm?” 

There was no response from either man, and Dutch frowned, rubbing at the painful twinge in his neck. 

“Arthur?” he called, realizing the younger man hadn’t moved, hadn’t even looked up to glare or chastise Dutch for this god awful idea he’d had. Hosea was standing beside Arthur’s suspended frame, frozen, hands hovering above his chest. “He alright?” 

There was still no response, the mountainside falling eerily silent, and Dutch felt the first prickles of cold dread seep into his blood. Arthur still didn’t move, didn’t give any response to Dutch’s calls. 

And then Hosea began to sob, and everything came to a stop. 

Dutch hung there as the older man lowered Arthur’s body to the ground, cradling his broken neck, agonized cries wafting into the air. 

 


	2. Kaspooky

Arthur steadied himself against the biting wind, the rope around his waist doing little to help him balance. Dutch looked more confident than he did, gripping the rocks with ease. 

“How you holding up?” The older man asked, eyeing him carefully. 

“Fine,” Arthur said, trying his best to sound convincing. He risked a glance over his shoulder, gripping the rope tighter when he realized how small Hosea looked on the ground below. “Christ, we’re high up.”

He could tell Dutch found his fear amusing, the older man smiling as he made his way further up the cliffside. “We’re almost there.” 

Arthur didn’t feel like looking up to see if they really were. It was bad enough, the breeze swaying him back and forth, the way his hands slipped on the icy rocks. 

“You know, if it’s too much for you, you can always head down and wait with the old man.”

Arthur found himself wishing he _was_ , but he’d never admit it. “Why the hell did Hosea get out of this?”

Dutch looked down and smirked. “He needs to catch you when you fall.” Arthur scoffed, focusing his attention on the task at hand, but Dutch kept talking. “See the ledge?” 

“I see the  _ fucking  _ ledge,” Arthur snapped, hugging the rocks as best he could. The older man’s grin faltered, and he found himself regretting his harshness. “Sorry.”  

“Almost there, son,” Dutch said, more sincere than before. “Didn’t realize you were such a fan of heights.” 

“Right, because  _ this  _ is such a fantastic idea,” Arthur said. He was beginning to wonder why he’d ever agreed to this ridiculous excursion. “Risking our necks for some treasure that might not even  _ exist.”  _

“It looks higher than it is. Try to relax.” 

Arthur was beginning to think Dutch was  _ trying  _ to get on his nerves. “I’ll relax when we’re back on the ground.”

Dutch, once again, ignored his concerns, opting to climb higher. Arthur took another glance downward. Hopefully he’d be back on the ground soon, maybe with a good take if what the map illustrated was true.  _ They were just so damn high.  _

“Come on, Arthur,” Dutch called from above him. “We have to keep moving.” 

Arthur really,  _ really  _ didn’t want to, his eyes still fixed on the ground. He wondered what Hosea thought, he probably thought they were a pair of  _ fools.  _

“Dutch, I’m...” every part of Arthur was screaming for him to turn back. He looked up, meeting Dutch’s worried gaze. “I don’t think I can-” 

“You’re okay.” 

Arthur shook his head.

“We have to keep moving.” 

He didn’t think he  _ could _ , but he had to try, for Dutch. “I’m coming,” he managed weakly, his voice faltering.  “Sorry, Dutch, I’m coming, I just-” 

“It’s okay,” Dutch interjected, and suddenly Arthur felt ridiculous. He was acting like a scared child, but he couldn’t help it. “It’s not that bad, just follow my lead,” Dutch’s reassurances didn’t make him feel any less horrified, but he did as the older man said. He followed his lead, slowly inching his way closer to the ledge above them. 

“Y-you...you sure I can’t just head back down, Dutch?” He pressed once more, hoping more than anything that the other man would say  _ yes.  _

Dutch didn’t, still insistent on pushing forward, “You’ve already made it this far, I’m right here, son. Look how close we are.”  

Dutch  _ was  _ close, only a few feet from the ledge. It felt like much farther than that for Arthur. Still, the younger man kept going, pushing down his panic in an effort to get there faster. 

Then Dutch made it, hoisting himself up and out of Arthur’s view. He wasn’t gone for long, reappearing to reach out a hand. “I’m right here! You can make it, Arthur, come on!” 

He was so close, reaching out- his hand only inches away from Dutch’s, when he felt his foothold give way beneath him. The hand that previously held him to the wall fell uselessly back.  _ “Dutch!”  _ He cried out, but it was too late- the relentless pull of gravity taking over. He was  _ falling,  _ and his rope was right behind him. 

He was going to  _ die,  _ but he didn’t have much time to think about it. Above him, Dutch’s hand, the one he’d reached out to pull Arthur up, gripped onto the unraveling rope. He might’ve said something, but Arthur wasn’t sure. He was too busy, watching in horror as Dutch was dragged over the edge along with him. Too stubborn to let go of the damn  _ rope. _

Almost as quickly as he’d fallen, Dutch was jerked to a stop, the tether around his waist held fast. 

Arthur was still falling, but he knew he wouldn’t be for much longer. He could’ve sworn he felt the ground rushing up to greet him- he could’ve seen the horror in Hosea’s eyes. 

_ He didn’t want to die, not like this, not- _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kaspooky for writing this with me! I love this story, and I'm so glad we got to depress ourselves together!
> 
> And a big thank you to Arwriter for being an all-around great person, I enjoy torturing Arthur with you immensely!


End file.
